


Well Deserved Explosions

by vonherder



Series: Cherry Chocolate [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little bit of violence, Gen, I'm pretending that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't happen because of reasons, Nick Fury is a dick, Same with Iron Man 3, a broom stick, a little bit of angst-ish-ness, a little bit of cursing, a little bit of funny, still not the breakfast scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonherder/pseuds/vonherder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Phil look crazed. Sort of. It was hard to tell with him, and the only real clue was the occasional twitch of his left eye.</i>
</p>
<p>An interlude of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Deserved Explosions

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, hi. I thought I would give you all a thing. You know, something to say, "I'm sorry I'm a dick and haven't been updating anything and this isn't the thing that you really want."
> 
> It's kinda not great, but angry Phil is fun to write and hopefully you'll laugh a little.

If Nick were being truly honest, he would most vehemently say that a broom to the face was not due course for a dead-of-the-night, out-of-the-goodness-of-his-heart, grocery delivery. Actually, Nick really couldn't think of anything done in his immediate past to warrant such abuse.

“You absolute _dick_ ,” Phil hissed at him, voice low and quiet as he _thwacked_ Nick again. 

Well. It wasn't as if Nick could really _deny_ that accusation, but he didn't really think it was worth getting hit over. He inched past Phil and into the tiny kitchen to set the bags down on the counter, “What—”

There was another sharp _thwack_ of the broom handle across his ass, and a whisper hissed, “ _Shhhh!_ ” from Phil. “You have to be quiet!”

Phil look crazed. Sort of. It was hard to tell with him, and the only real clue was the occasional twitch of his left eye.

Placatingly, Nick held up his hands and whispered, “What the hell is going on?”

“You,” Phil poked him in the sternum, hard, with the broom handle, “are a dick.”

“I promise you, I have no idea what is going on.”

“Exactly,” Phil said, and smacked the broom against Nick's him in order to direct him down the hallway. “That's why you're a dick.”

A few sharp jabs in the back kept Nick moving until he was at the door to Phil's room. He threw a smirk over his shoulder, “No dinner first.”

The smack that landed across the back of his head was very definitely Phil's hand and it very definitely hurt more than the broom.

“Look,” Phil demanded.

And so he did, gently pushing the door open.

Huh.

Inside the darkened room, Tony Stark was sprawled across the bed, hair mussed and face slack with sleep. He looked so... right, tangled up in Phil's bed like he belonged there. And _that_ —that was unexpected.

“Huh.”

The broom handle jammed against his kidney once and then he was being hauled back down the hall by a strong grip on his jacket.

“You are a _dick_ ,” Phil whispered, pushing him into the kitchen, broom still tight in his grip. “I know that you monitor the security of the homes of all agents Level 8 and above. You would have been alerted the instant that door was opened.”

“Hey, no alarms went off, no security was breached, how was I supposed to know that it wasn't Maria or—”

Phil threw his hands up, broom waving erratically and dangerously, “Why would Maria be in my apartment? What could she possibly need?”

“How the hell should I know that? She's,” he gestured vaguely toward the door as if it were a passable substitute for the woman, “confusing.”

Phil rolled his eyes with a ferocity that had Nick wincing just a little, “You absolute dumbass.”

“What, I'm supposed to understand her?”

“Yes.”

Nick snapped his mouth shut.

Phil leveled a look of pure fury and him and pointed the broom handle in his face, “You left him here all alone, Nick. You should have noticed. He never should have been here, not like this. Not for so long.”

Nick gestured back toward the bedroom, “Well what was he even doing here to begin with?”

“He was mourning.”

Nick paused, frowning. Could that be right? “But, he would have known,” he began. “A few days after seeing the good doctor off, he hacked your files. It would have been right there.”

“He wasn't looking for it,” Phil said, lowly, finally relinquishing his grip on the broom. “He was looking for my home address.”

Nick cast a glance down the dark hall, “Tony Stark never misses a damn thing.”

“But a man mourning?”

Nick turned his gaze back to Phil. Now that the anger had ebbed, he could see the lines of worry creasing his face. “Did he wake?” he asked, leaning back against the counter.

“Barely. Thought he was dreaming.”

Nick didn't comment on the catch in Phil's voice. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked instead. “He'll be angry. Might need to take a broom stick to someone.”

Phil raised one eyebrow in challenge, hand twitching.

Nick huffed a laugh and raised his hands, “I'm just saying, he'll need a target. Might be better if it's me.”

Phil shook his head with a smirk, “You'll get yours. And it will be glorious and hilarious and probably in full view of the rest of the crew.”

“That's what I'm dreading,” Nick said, sagging back against the counter.

Phil sobered and cast his own glance down the hall, “I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow.”

“He'll fight you.”

Phil looked up at him, a real, honest, smile gracing his face for the first time, “He always does.”

Nick found himself smiling as well. He nodded toward the hall, “Go. Take care of him.”

He nodded, tension finally beginning to ebb from his shoulders, “Tomorrow at eleven?”

“Come in when you're ready,” Nick said with a shake of his head. “You're needed here for a while.”

“The rest of the team will be angry.”

“You aren't in love with the rest of the team.”

Phil blushed slightly, the beginnings of a grin crossing his face, “I'll call in a few days, then?”

“If he needs a punching bag,” Nick said as he straightened and headed for the door, “I think I'm willing to step in if need be.”

“I'll let you know,” Phil said with laugh. He gently shoved Nick along with a warm hand to his shoulder, “You can show yourself out?”

“Yeah. Go,” he turned and gently pushed Phil toward the hall and the bedroom and the sleeping billionaire.

Phil flashed him a small smirk and was gone.

Nick nodded to himself as he left. This was going to work just fine. After some explosions, probably, but that was how things usually worked out when Stark was involved. And Phil, he would explode right back; it would be fiery and loud, but it would work and it would be amazing and Phil deserved that. Hell, they both did.

He closed the door and waited until the locks engaged before he turned down the hall. He rubbed at the smarting bruise beginning the form on his hip. Explosions. 

He hefted the broom over his shoulder as he headed out of the building.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this doesn't suck and it will tide you over until I can get all of the important breakfast stuff down?
> 
> Also, I think I'm going to do a thing where I try to write something every day, even if it's tiny and not good. Just to actually get back into writing again. I've spent so much time just not writing, so it's kinda hard getting back into it.


End file.
